#Victorian State Election

[claraameliapond]

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HAPPY VOTING DAY EVERYONE!!!! Aka my fellow Victorians 💖💕💗

Please please vote for Womens Health, 100% renewable clean government owned energy ( this is huge!!!!!)

A government who will advocate for and stand up for the rights of its people

This is the INCREDIBLE Victorian Labor Government that KEPT US ALL SAFE during the pandemic and dedicated each day, and all night, including weekends, to monitoring and informing the public about coronavirus and properly tracked and traced its spread and individually contacted people known to be near an infected individual

They LITERALLY DID NOT REST WHILE VICTORIANS WERE AT RISK

I want a government dedicated to my health

You don't get that kind of dedication - or work - with anyone else

Their ability to keep us safe in the pandemic was unparalleled Worldwide.

Please be aware of this.

Noone else in the world handed it as well as the Victorian Labor Government with Dan Andrews

World class leadership

And it worked

It was effective and the safest way to handle it

I want a government who will advocate for the human rights of its people, whose literal job it is to protect, and will not give in, even when actively targeted and bullied constantly by the opposing federal governing body at the time about its logical approach using scientific information and evidence to protect us all

I STAND WITH DAN

I want a government who will prepare responsibly and dedicate themselves to advocating for the human rights of its people and the safety of all, and to fixing whatever issues or challenges come its way and actively find working solutions

I want a government who will be upfront and tell us scientific medical information about public health and concerns, and actively take precautions to ensure its people stay as safe as possible in things like a pandemic

Who will actively inform the public about what is happening as it happens and who can be trusted and relied upon to give the best scientific evidence, advice and action about it

I want a government who listens to and trusts science and logic

Who proactively applies logic, common sense and scientific knowledge to their actions, precautions and solutions

And delivers results

I want a government who will fund what matters

The continued removal of dangerous level crossings and all the safe new train stations whose lines DO NOT INTERSECT A ROAD (= aka a level crossing) the three near me have just been finished and oh my gosh it's amazing lasting infrastructure

Changing and fixing practical things like infrastructure and human rights laws and access to medicine, education and clean energy

Lasting change that transforms our way of life and empowers individuals

That fixes things and creates lasting positive change

Who genuinely believe in women's equality and in protecting the environment

Who advocate for and believe in Aboriginal cultural respect in its already world first laws and actions and initiatives regarding this

Please please please vote to keep us safe in this continuing pandemic , and to empower our state with equality , equally distributed health care, education and training access , government owned clean energy 😀 😊 and a protected environment

Please make sure you VOTE LABOR

This 2022 Victorian State Election

Xxxxx

[resplendentmackerelsky]

Omg Antony Green, hi!

[spnexploration]

Happy Democracy Sausage Day!

And yes, I did pick my polling booth by looking up which had a sausage sizzle AND a cake stall 😋

[looktoyourkingdomz]

you don't understand how relieved i am that labor won and kicked the liberals asses so badly. am i the biggest fan of dan? no! i'm a greens voter! but having a party more conservative than labor in power for 4 whole years would have been a nightmare. and also fuck matthew guy

[dialogue-queered]

Australian Issues Primer

The State of Victoria had one of the world’s longest Covid-19 lockdown sequences over 2020 and 2021. It generated a vicious, often violent anti-vaxx, anti-lockdown minority. On November 26, 2022 the state went to elections, and the ruling centre-left, Labor government actually increased its overall seat take to 56/88 in the lower house.

The electorate supported the political response.

Having said that, working-class suburbs in the metro north and west saw massive swings against the government - upto 20% - but insufficient to lose seats - so the party is on notice from its base.

In the metro east, the party increased its take in middle-class suburbs, especially where Chinese-Australians were significant electoral minorities - they supported the strong lockdown response.

Significantly, the Premier, and Labor leader, Daniel Andrews, promised to create a new public energy company to coordinate and own large-scale renewable energy projects (a revived State Electricity Commission).

Extract 1:

Andrews said the government made “very tough decisions” during the pandemic for the community.

“As a community we were not, as some would say, divided, we were instead united in our faith in science and in our faith and care for and in each other,” he said, in a clear dig at the opposition leader, Matthew Guy, who has continually repeated the line that the premier has sought to “divide Victorians”.

Most voters Guardian Australia has spoke to in recent weeks were keen to move on from the pandemic. They cited climate change, cost of living, health and housing affordability as their main concerns.

To that end, Andrews used the latter half of his speech to spruik promises of upgraded hospitals, new schools, expanded free TAFE and a revived State Electricity Commission to own and operate renewable energy projects. The latter received the greatest cheer from the crowd.

[milliesfishes]

୨ৎ⋆˚౨ৎRibbons (Act One)౨ৎ˚⋆୨ৎ

[fem reader] contains: depression, control, mention of a past suicide attempt, angst pairing: coriolanus snow x fem reader author’s note: this work contains topics that may be upsetting pertaining mental health, controlling relationships, depression, and suicide. I did my best to portray them correctly. I hope you all enjoy the series, it's very angsty :) 𝓟𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓽 𝓑𝓸𝓪𝓻𝓭 𝓢𝓹𝓸𝓽𝓲𝓯𝔂 𝓟𝓵𝓪𝔂𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

THE ELUSIVE FIRST LADY We've all seen the pictures. Coriolanus Snow was wed to the most beautiful bride Panem has ever seen in a lustrous ceremony two years ago. After the honeymoon, the young politician engaged in a slew of campaigning, and nearly exactly twelve months later, he was elected president. The First Lady has neither been seen or heard from since. In the past, it has been customary for the wives of the President to host galas and attend charity events. Mrs. Snow has done none of the above. President Snow was very open with his wife before the election, and she was alongside him at every speech and dinner. Presently, he attends what few events he does alone, his wife nowhere in sight. Due to the now-First Lady's popularity before her husband's candidacy, it is a curious occurrence indeed. So we, and all of Panem, have to ask the question- where is she?

Suffocation is very slow.

Even butterflies in bell jars flutter around for a bit before they take their last breaths. They are there to admire for what their captors know is a limited time. That was the difference between theirs and yours.

For your own peace of mind, you reasoned that Coriolanus Snow had not known what he was doing.

Breathing in the salty air of the seaside, you felt the scent and sound of everything wash over you and slip your mind into a state of relaxation. It had been months since you'd felt this free.

Hands on the smooth, grainy railing of the porch, you stood on your tiptoes, the edge pressing against your belly. The sea breeze tickled your hair around your neck, the skirts of your white dress brushing your ankles.

It had been four weeks of bliss; of waking up with cotton sheets tangled around your legs, of feeling the sun freckle your skin that was no longer pale as death. A whimsical month of sand in every crease, of collecting seashells the length of your little fingernail and spreading them over the kitchen counter to admire.

You were supposed to escape this way. To get better. But the little details of this place painted a picture of home; the very spot you were not supposed to think of. Truly, the great, roaring mass of water was more alike to what you had left behind than the thing itself.

The ocean was the same blue of his eyes, contained secrets of the same magnitude. The tide ebbed and flowed the same way he did. There was one marked difference, though. When you thought of him, resentment and sorrow bubbled in your chest to create a confusing swirl of unexplainable feeling. You did not feel this toward the sea.

Fisting the skirt of your dress, you ran a hand up the column of the house. The porch was strewn with sand, the pastel walls of the Victorian exterior worn with time but adding to the charm. This place had become your sanctuary. And you had your doubts about whether you would be allowed to return.

Padding inside, the knotted rug cleared the majority of the sand from your feet, but you knew some would manage to stick and track onto the hardwood floor. Your two round suitcases were packed, the few belongings from your month away tucked away and reminding you how little space things actually take up. Mass does not account for the memories.

Looking around at this little space that had become your home, you felt a familiar pang of dread tap your chest. You had been avoiding it- the idea that you must leave. The idea of returning to what had gotten you sent here in the first place.

A dam of memories began to crack, but you resisted, holding the splits in the structure with your fingers. I am better now. The whole point of you coming here was to recover. That single dreadful flicker of a recollection sparked, but you held it down.

Tires crunching on gravel. An involuntary shudder racked your body. It was time. Funnily enough, this felt more like a punishment than coming here had. You bent and picked up your suitcases, slipping your feet into the black flats that would deem your ensemble appropriate enough for return.

Your companions for the month had already departed, quiet goodbyes and well wishes in their wake. They knew what was waiting for you, and doubly they knew how you dreaded it.

Shutting the door behind you felt like forcing two magnets away from each other. You slowly pulled your hand away from the doorknob, thumb pressing into the embossed symbol in the center. When you looked down at your hand, you could see the imprint of it in the skin. A rose.

Using that hand to bunch your skirts again, you descended the creaky stairs and down the willowy, crunchy path of seashells and rocks to where the black-suited driver was holding the door of the car for you. He eyed you when you bent to pick a handful of beach aster before continuing your walk of doom.

Shutting the door behind you, he offered a polite tip of the hat, which you acknowledged with a smile. It wasn't his fault you were headed back into the lion's den.

The entire drive, you stared out the window, eyes chasing the sights as they whizzed by, back into the past already; those golden hours you missed already. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as the reality of it hit you.

Good-bye sandy sunsets and shining waters.

It was your final farewell as you were forced to greet empty halls and lonely luxury.

Back into the bell jar.

If you had wings, they would be wilted. The second you saw the mansion, looming over the car like a monster, you recoiled, shrinking back into your seat and wishing you could sink into the spot. Maybe if you willed it hard enough you would disappear and leave nothing but a white dress with a pocket full of seashells behind.

You shivered, folding your hands around your arms as goosebumps sprouted. Longing for the crackling fire in the hearth of your beach house, you tried to sit up straight. It wouldn't do well to have a shaky appearance.

Being in the car made you more anxious than the idea of returning. Clenching your fingers around your arms, you breathed in and out, tried to count to one hundred. The car ride to the beach house had elicited a similar reaction, your nerves getting the better of you.

The golden gates parted for the car, and that was when you saw him waiting, hands folded behind his back, standing on the pale marble steps leading up to the house. His hair was so light it was nearly the same color, the red of his coat a stark contrast. In your absence you had forgotten the season, and suddenly you regretted your choice in dress. The thin straps would do little to protect you from the cold.

As you stepped out of the car, using the hand of the driver as leverage, Coriolanus moved forward toward you. His icy blue eyes roved over your appearance; sun-warmed skin, simple dress, some beach aster stuck behind your ear and more peeking out of your pocket. The tiny shells in the same opening slightly jingled as you met him halfway.

"Darling," he greeted, his voice low. The only other people out here were the Peacekeepers used for the mansion's security and the driver of the car, who was taking your two circular suitcases from the back.

You lifted your chin, taking his offered hand and letting him help you up the steps. Repressing a shiver because the house was only a minute away, you eyed the barren trees lining the walls. There were only a few dried, stiffened leaves clinging to the spindly branches. Even the roses were trimmed now, at the stems.

Disappointment twinged at your insides. One of the only things you'd been looking forward to was escaping through the garden. Coriolanus noticed your face fall at the sight, and he squeezed your hand. "Some of them were cut and moved inside. We can have more brought in if you would like."

Nodding slightly, you gave him a soft smile, doing your best to hide from him the dread eating you from the inside out. Stepping through the lacquered white doors, the chill of the mansion made you shiver in a way unrelated to the temperature. Coriolanus secured his arm around you, rubbing your elbow. "You must be freezing in that dress. Come, let's get you something more...appropriate."

The disdain in his tone was hard to miss. But you knew he wasn't talking about your outfit. He wanted to transform you back into the woman he knew. In appearance only.

It felt like an attack. Coriolanus wanted to scrub from you any remnants of your escape, of the time you hadn't been under his shadow. Truthfully, you couldn't be too upset for it. He didn't know of the haven in your beloved ocean. All he knew was that you'd been away from him.

"Of course," you whispered, lifting your eyes to meet his. Your husband caressed your cheek briefly, an unrecognizable look flickering in his irises.

It quickly diminished though, and you were then escorted up the stairs, walking hand in hand down the hallway with him. His shiny shoes clicked on the tile, your flats barely making a sound.

Stopping at your door, Coriolanus turned to you, searching your eyes for any sign of discomfort. "Will you come down for dinner?" he questioned quietly, voice barely echoing in the expanse of the hallway.

Nodding slightly, you managed a little upturn of your lips, feeling like you were performing. "Of course."

A sort of relieved expression fell over him, and he lifted your joined hands, kissing your fingers. "Wonderful. I'll let you freshen up."

Once you were behind the door of your bedroom, you leaned against it, sliding down to the floor. It was over. The first part was over. Maybe this will have been the hardest.

You stared at the ceiling for a moment before getting to your feet, watching the sunset cast shadows on the floor and expose the dust of the air. At least the same moon would appear when the night fell.

Wandering into the bathroom, you studied your reflection for a moment. You didn't look at all like the woman who'd left these walls four weeks ago. But you didn't look like who you'd been before being her either. Now you were some foreign, unfamiliar thing whose nature you had not yet uncovered.

It was like stumbling upon the Gardens of Babylon; something inside you that there had been whispers of, but nobody had known existed. And now you weren't sure if you were entirely yourself. Everything you were before was shelled inside like a nesting doll, but you hadn't the courage to uncover it.

Tearing your eyes away from the mirror, you slipped off your shoes, feeling the cool marble beneath your feet. Checkered tiles. You had picked them out so long ago.

Turning your head to the side, you saw it standing there, like a lone specter. The smooth, rounded bathtub, like a cupped hand. Reaching out, you lightly ran a finger down the side of it. It wasn't the same one. Of course it wouldn't be.

You wondered what he'd done with it. Had it destroyed, maybe? He'd blame anything but you for what happened.

Even an inanimate object that had been doing nothing but what it was created to.

Dressed in a light pink sweater tucked into a matching skirt, a belt cinching your waist, you sat primly diagonal from him, picking at the food on your plate. Long gone were the beach asters, any grains of sand that may have clung to you. A shower had erased it.

Now you were back, settled into the space you'd inhabited before. Even though your heart wasn't the same shape anymore, you fit it perfectly.

He was looking up every few seconds, as if you'd disintegrate if he didn't always have one eye on you. You didn't question it.

Determinedly casual, Coriolanus commented, "The doctors reported well of your conditions." He speared a potato with his fork, bringing it to his mouth.

Hands folded in your lap, you let your chin move up and down as a response. It had been a topic in question for you; how he was going to broach the situation. If it was up to you, it would never be spoken of again.

Your husband set his utensil down with a gentle clatter, resting his elbow on the table, palm facing the chandelier above. Recognizing what he wanted, you lifted one of your hands, setting it limply atop his. His fingers closed around yours, squeezing.

Somehow you mustered the courage to meet his eyes, that deep blue that so reminded you of your missed getaway. Coriolanus rested his other hand on yours, thumb rubbing your knuckles. He made sure you were looking right at him when he said, "I apologize, darling. For everything I did to-" he cut himself off with a swallow. "I'm sorry."

Casting your eyes to the side for a moment, you noticed for the first time the vase of roses sitting modestly close to your setting. These weren't ordered, no, they were from the garden. Perhaps cut today even, spared until the last minute before you arrived unlike their stemless companions.

Turning back to him, you took in a light breath, lifting your free hand to touch the sliver of a belt over your stomach. Tracing the little buckle for a moment, your eyes found his as a question you'd been wanting to ask for a long time slipped past your lips. "Why did you do it?"

Coriolanus' face hardened slightly, but then his thumb traveling your hand found your wedding ring and his shoulders relaxed. "It was to keep you safe."

"I wasn't allowed to leave," you retorted quietly, some newfound bravery inside you urging the words from your mind. "Months trapped in this house, allowed to see no one-"

"To keep you safe," he reiterated. If it were not for the sincerity in his eyes you would have thought him cruel for feeding you the same statement he had before your trip to the seaside. "Darling...all of this was to keep you protected."

"And look where that's gotten us." Your soft response was punctuated by you pulling your hand back, clasping it with the other on your thigh. Freshly painted a pale rose color, your nails poked at your skin when you balled your hands up, an attempt to keep control. Quietly, you added, "The media got ahold of an account of my spending. Apparently, an inside source gave it to them."

Your husband sat upright, a frown creasing his brow. "I thought you weren't supposed to look at those things while-"

"I didn't." You looked down. "Not on purpose. One of the caretakers left a magazine out and I... saw my name. I couldn't help it."

"Did it say what you were spending on?" Coriolanus leaned back again, and you could almost see the wheels in his head turning.

"No," you shook your head, fingers coming up to touch the space between your eyebrows. A headache was coming, you could feel it. "But they had an exact amount."

"Anyone working with our finances wouldn't know what happened," Coriolanus reasoned, fingers thrumming the arm of his chair. His hair looked a little mussed, you observed. Like he'd been running his hand through it. You could see the gel wearing off, his natural curls beginning to take form again. How you'd loved petting his hair before. And how he'd loved letting you. "I'll have the staff cleared out and replace them."

Clenching your jaw so you wouldn't cry, you nodded. One tear escaped, trickling down your cheek as a wave of shame crashed over you. Unable to help yourself, you put your hands over your face, whispering, "It was awful, Coryo. The number was so high. And now everyone thinks I'm spending the country's money on parties and dresses."

"Darling. Darling." There was the sound of a chair being pushed back, and then you heard him step to you, two hands pulling you to stand and fall into him. Despite your qualms, you let your arms wrap around him, face pressing into the spot over his heart, where the steady thump nudged your cheek. He buried his nose in your hair, a gentle kiss finding a home there. "We know the truth, sweetheart. That's the most important thing."

"But you're the president," you sniffled, all previous fear forgotten as you remembered how good it felt to be in his arms. Living in his shadow also meant being protected by it. "I'm making you look awful. It won't be good for the reelection."

"I don't give a damn about the reelection if you're not well," Coriolanus murmured into your hair. "This isn't your fault, it's the staff's for letting this information get out. I won't stop spending my money on doctors as long as you're unwell." He rubbed your back. "I don't care if the tabloids think it's something else."

A dry sob erupted from your lips at his words, and he tightened his arms around you. You hated yourself for finding comfort in him after what he'd done.

"Let's get you upstairs," he said quietly, and you nodded into him. He made a move to take a step but hesitated. In a careful gesture, Coriolanus leaned down, securing his arm under your knees and lifting you up. You wrapped your arms around his neck, leaning your head against his shoulder and closing your eyes. The headache that had begun to make an appearance was now pounding, and you fisted your husband's shirt as it did.

Aware of your discomfort, Coriolanus swept you upstairs, and before you knew it you were being laid on your soft bed, atop the covers as he went to the closet to find something for you to sleep in. Sitting up, you began to undo your belt, sliding it through the buckle and winding it up neatly. You removed your skirt, unzipping the side, and then your sweater by the time he returned, one of your old favorite nightdresses in hand.

He bunched it in his hands, holding the neck open. "Lift your arms."

You did, and he slid the fabric over your head, straightening it out over your body. Wrestling your arms through the openings, you murmured. "The bathtub's new."

He paused, seeming surprised that you had brought it up. The sight of you was sure to be a sorry one, with messy hair and teary eyes, sitting in a little white nightdress, the skirt of which was messily pinched and spread over your thighs. Kneeling at your feet, he looked at your legs, one hand coming to smooth the fabric over them. When it reached your knees, the hem brushing the bone, he muttered, "In no world was I going to keep the old one."

Plunging your head underwater, you felt the thoughts numb. Every second you stayed under; the noise stopped. One moment you had hope of the end, and then the next a pair of hands were breaking the surface and yanking you from your peace.

Staring up at him, you felt the fog begin to settle over you again. Blinking tiredly, you said, "You could have."

Coriolanus inhaled, resting his head on your knees. Then his arms moved, encircling your waist and now his head was buried in your stomach. You lifted your hand, hesitantly touching his hair. It was mostly soft, a little stiff in some places from the dried out, hours-old gel.

For a moment, you didn't think he would let go. But his arms loosened, and he looked up at you. The vulnerability etched in his roaring oceans of eyes nearly drew from you a gasp. He shook his head, and you could almost see the reflection of what he was thinking in the blue.

You, wet hair sticking to your chest, water dripping from your bare body and pooling beneath on the floor.

Coriolanus grasped your waist, watching your chest rise and fall with your breathing. He rubbed your side gently, something melancholy drizzling over the scene. "Did you do it...because I made you stay?"

The question made your motions through his hair stop, and he lifted his head. His eyes pierced your heart, but you were tired of withholding the truth. Your response was soft. "Week after week of being confined to this place. And you still won't even tell me why." The look on your face was answer enough for him.

Rising, Coriolanus leaned in, hand finding the crown of your head and holding you as he pressed a kiss to your hairline. He held his lips there for a long time. Broad and strong, he stood firm and steady in the tumultuous waves of your life, drawing you in like an unbendable force.

Thunder seemed to shake your being, the waters up to your neck. And yet there he was, unaffected by any storm, his arms open and willing. And suddenly you missed him, needed him like you had never needed anything before. Hands shaking, breathily, you asked, "Will you stay?"

Even after everything, after the history that defined you by being written, you were helpless without him. It was that love you'd never rescinded, that had bloomed when he slid his ring on your finger and had hardly even wilted when he imposed such a harrowing restriction upon you.

You wished you hated him.

He began to loosen his tie. It was discarded along with his shoes, shirt, jacket, and pants. Each item shed unsheathed the man beneath the president. And then you saw your Coryo again, the one you'd loved before he consumed the power bestowed on him.

Maybe you weren't the only one with multiple versions inside yourself. He was just better at uncovering them.

Had it been the president who'd given you strict orders to never step past the grounds? Who'd brushed away your pleas to leave even for a few hours, saying he'd send for more catalogs and books to keep you occupied? Who'd pried the shiny, embossed invitations from your hands when you begged to attend events with him?

You had thought it was the president who you'd walked in on in his study after you'd been pulled from the dripping throes of death, in a meeting with the doctor who'd thoroughly examined you. The president who stared at the wood of his desk, brow furrowed, backs of fingers covering his mouth as the doctor told him he would recommend for you to be sent away to recover fully. "Many of my patients have said the seaside, in particular, has improved their condition," he said in hushed tones. The president nodded.

When you whispered, "The seaside?" it was the president who noticed you, who got to his feet and was at your side in an instant.

But it was a different man whose eyes roved over your disheveled appearance; messy hair, wearing nothing but an oversized sweater that fell to your middle thighs and engulfed your hands. He slid an arm around you, bringing you to his chest and smoothing your hair. "Sweetheart, you need to be resting. Let me take you back to your room." Still in a daze from the prescribed sleeping pills, you nodded hazily and let him lead you upstairs with an arm around your shoulders.

It was that man who was getting into bed with you right now, pulling you into his arms and tucking you to his side, whispering that it was okay, that all you had to do now was sleep.

Instead of drifting off, your mind wandered near and far, body feeling heavy with all the answers you lacked. The burden of it all was nearly breaking you. And before you could regulate, the one thing on your mind was escaping your head through your mouth.

"Did you do it because you love somebody else?"

He stiffened, and then his arms tightened around you. You could feel him shake his head immediately, even though you couldn't see it. "No. Never." Coriolanus adjusted the position of his hands, splaying one over your tummy. He kissed your hair, mumbling into it. "I love you. You're my wife." His words were firm, and you felt some comfort return.

"Was it because you were ashamed of me?" You turned around, facing him. The only light was from the candle at your bedside, flickering dependently. He exhaled softly at your questioning, thumbing the side of your face. You asked in a small voice, "Did you want to hide me away?"

His head moved back and forth, declining your theory. "Darling, I have never been ashamed of you. Not once."

"But why else would you force me to stay where nobody can see me?" you asked quietly, on the verge of tears again. Over your weeks away, the medical care staff had discouraged you from wondering about such things, telling you they would only send your head into a spiral. But now, in the last honest moments of waking, you were incapable of holding back.

Coriolanus' face was tender, and he cupped a big hand over your head. You could hear the words before he said them and you dreaded their arrival. Shaking your head, your lower lip trembled as he breathed life into the phrase once again.

"To keep you safe."

Despondently, you watched him, giving no response as he gave you a final peck to your temple and tucked your head under his chin. The irony of the statement was not lost on you. He had protected you from everything except yourself.

Nobody tells you what to do once you survive. Once you are past the point of danger, there is nothing but wide, open space in front of you that only serves to collapse what you have thought you healed.

Even after your self-inflicted brush with death, the person whom you loved most still refused to give you the one answer that would bring you peace.

After blowing out the candle, it did not take Coriolanus long to slip into sleep. You laid awake for hours afterward, thoughts piling up like discarded flowers after a wedding.

You had held him as your lover; fulfilling your marriage vows before they were uttered. He was forever, adoring in every sense of the word. But now you couldn't help but feel as if he was holding you for a different reason.

He was concealing you. And if it be the will of Coriolanus Snow, undiscovered you would remain.

Though he had given himself to you, it radiated off him. The shame of being yours.

𝓝𝓮𝔁𝓽 𝓐𝓬𝓽

[listen-to-the-inner-walrus]

So I made a post about this article back when it came out in November 2023, but in light of us having a General Election in just over a month, it feels pertinent to bring it up again.

A tl/dr of it would be that within the past six years or so, two separate UN experts on poverty and human rights have assessed the UK and both have found that the poverty levels are horrific and unacceptable.

The first was a report done by Philip Alston in 2019; the second expert, Olivier De Schutter is the UN's current special rapporteur on extreme poverty and human rights and who visited the country at the end of 2023, and he accused the government of violating human rights in regards to poverty.

Both experts put the blame squarely on the Tories and their policies.

The first expert compared austerity to a Victorian era workhouse and accused the government of “systematic immiseration of a significant part of the British population”. At the time of that report, the government responded with denial and accusations of political bias.

The second expert rightfully pointed out that the government's refusal to engage with what Alston had reported had led to a rise in poverty, specifically that a fifth of UK residents live in poverty. He described the welfare state as “a leaking bucket” and again, he blamed the Tories and their policies.

This time, the government responded with fluffy words and empty promises that are not even in line with what De Schutter recommended.

I think it's important to bring this up again right now because in 37 days, we will be selecting what party will govern us for five more years.

In five years, the level of poverty in this country went from deeply concerning to breaching human rights laws.

Do you want to hand them the keys to number 10 for another five years? Do you want to see how much worse it can get?

Because I fucking don't and that's why I'm gonna (tactically) vote for Labour on July 4th. I fucking beg you to join me in voting the Tories out.

[whinlatter]

That brings up an interesting point. Since you seen to be a canon girlie, do you think/feel that Hermione DOES become Minister?

What do you make of Harry being Head of Magical Law Enforcement?

thank you for this question anon! i do think it's very plausible hermione becomes minister of magic. i think it's equally plausible that harry becomes head of magical law enforcement. mostly because, well:

basically: i think both characters' career trajectories are in keeping with the politics of the series as a whole - eg. the goodies are all liberal, pro-state, non-revolutionary moderates who support a gradualist reformist agenda rather than a radical re-imagining of societal organisation. i also think both career options track with who each character is in canon (or rather, who the teenage versions of these characters might become as adults). and i think most of the reasons people are disappointed by either idea, and especially by harry coming 'a cop' then rising up the ranks to run law enforcement, is because they are putting their own more radical ambitions around social justice onto characters that would be poor vehicles for them.

on hermione - i don't know how many people have huge issue with the idea of hermione as minister of magic. i imagine the complaints with this idea come from people who a) like hermione and think hermione's politics as a teenager - identifying systemic injustice and labour exploitation of a subject people - jar with the idea of her settling within a political system that upholds and enforces that structure and others like it, or b) people don't like hermione as much and who think she would be too unpopular to get elected. to the former group, i'd trot out the arguments made far better than people other than me: that hermione's support for the house elves mostly boils down to a bit of a saviour complex and 'be nicer to your slaves', which is not especially radical position, and also point out the ministry's institutional culture seems to reward high-achieving technocrats with establishment credentials (or at least, prior records of academic and professional achievement), and i could see hermione riding that train straight to the top, especially on wave of post-war reformism with diminishing anti-muggleborn prejudice. (the wizarding world also loves a good (and bad) law and is extremely vigilant in enforcing them to a fault. hermione jean granger absolutely loves a rule. it's a match-made in heaven. it is - i fear - giving keir starmer).

to the second point, as i talked a bit about here, the wizarding world does not seem to be a democracy. so hermione wouldn't even need to be especially popular to get the top job. i personally love the idea of hermione quietly parking her commitments to representative democracy to get a bit of good labour legislation passed, or even thinking about wizarding democracy in victorian terms (as long as you're representing what you think the enlightened citizenry want, you're gucci). i mean honestly, what do the masses know! ignore em, queen. they're all kind of pureblood racists anyway!

on harry: i have a feeling it's harry's trajectory that most pisses people off. and i absolutely get it! people hate cops, and harry appears to become one, after spending a lot of the series raging against how shit senior leadership at the ministry of magic tend to be. while i do see the argument that teenage harry has strong criticisms of the ministry for its officials' self-interest, corruption and lack of accountability for their many miscarriages of justice, the truth is that a) harry never really associates being an auror with representing the ministry of magic as an institution, that b) he thinks of lots of characters who work in and around the ministry of magic, including in law enforcement, as agents of good (arthur weasley, kingsley, tonks, mad-eye, amelia bones) and c) harry at no point shows himself interested in thinking about ideology, about political systems, or about a more developed worldview beyond a deep sense of right and wrong and a need for justice. i think harry would like being head of magical law enforcement much less than hermione would like being minister, and i could see him finding the job enormously frustrating both for how much politicking it likely requires and for how little field action it would require. but i don't think that means it's out of character for him to rise up the ranks in pursuit of a more effective justice system and eventually take the top job as a means to an end.

the only other thing i'll say is that i do think there is something a bit culturally specific about imagining these two characters we think of as morally good actors taking up roles within the state to try to work for what they feel to be positive reform and progressive causes. the state appears quite neutrally in the hp series: it's a tool to be picked up and used to affect political change. this reflects its author's worldview, the political moment in which it was written (eg. under blair's new labour), and a longstanding dimension of real-life centre-left social democratic british politics usually expressed, at various times and to varying extents, by the political programme of the labour party throughout its history (to say nothing of a wider european context). it's not an inherently problematic political worldview (it is a core social democratic and socialist principle; it is also my own view of the state...), though ofc it can become so in the wrong hands. for instance, it's a consistent through-line in jkr's political evolution and a staple of her practically single-issue dangerous anti-trans politics even now - terf politics is a lot about wielding the state to remove legal protections from trans people, stop them from accessing health care etc. but the idea of the big state and of laws and government as a positive interventionist tool does colour hp as a text in lots of ways and is reflected in the worldview of many of its characters with which the reader is supposed to side. and i don't think we should overlook that.

conversely, hp is also a series devoid of political movements, and certainly of a meaningful far-left ideology or political sphere. and that's important to remember too if we're interested in canon coherence: hp is a liberal text in that it seemed plausible for its author to vacate a great deal of politics from her world-building. and i think that is, regretfully, worth remembering when we're claiming hermione should have been a trade union agitator or harry should have been an acab abolitionist organiser or whatever.

[f1ghtsoftly]

All The Women’s News You Missed Last Week:

10/28/24-11/4/24

Last week, a courageous woman protested modesty laws in Iran, Kamala went on SNL, and Kemi Badenoch took over the UK’s conservative party. The world continues to hold its breath for the results of the 2024 American presidential election. 

On Thursday, November 6th I will release a special edition of thoughtful feminist opinion pieces and analysis of the results of the 2024 election, both nationally and in state elections. A reminder that abortion is on the ballot this Tuesday in 10 U.S. states. 

I also officially endorse Proposition 1 in New York. Read about what the amendment will and will not do here, and check out a more in-depth nonpartisan article about the proposition (the one that convinced me to vote YES) here.

Want this in your inbox instead? Subscribe here

U.S Election and Reproductive Rights:

A Pregnant Teenager Died After Trying to Get Care in Three Visits to Texas Emergency Rooms

Abortion rights at forefront of Women's March rallies in runup to Election Day

We Heart: Feminist Art on Display in Texas Declares, ‘Be Afraid. We Are Coming for You.’

In a historic election, no one’s talking about feminism

Kamala Harris makes surprise appearance on Saturday Night Live

'A lot of women are rising up': Harris hopes hinge on female vote

Male Violence:

UK prosecutors are mulling whether to charge Russell Brand over sex assault allegations

British businessman to remain in custody on charge of killing Indonesian woman in Hong Kong

Women In The News:

Iran urged to release woman detained after undressing at university

Victorian feminist Fay Marles dies aged 98, leaving legacy for women's rights and social justice

Who is Kemi Badenoch, the first Black woman to lead Britain’s Conservative Party?

Refugee runner is Afghan women's 'voice for change'

Why female entrepreneurs are key to getting more women to work

Pro-EU leader wins Moldova election despite alleged Russian meddling

Secret WW2 bravery of Welsh mum who survived Nazi Germany and saved a historic church

Argentina's Milei fires foreign minister for opposing US embargo on Cuba

What happened to the young girl captured in a photograph of Gaza detainees

US woman in 1990 'killer clown' case released from prison

Arts and Culture:

Strictly's Tasha Ghouri in tears over online hate

Jodi Picoult’s ‘Nineteen Minutes’ tops PEN America of books banned in schools

Tina Knowles to tell her story in ‘Matriarch,’ a memoir scheduled for next year

As always, this is global and domestic news from a US perspective covering feminist issues and women in the news more generally. As of right now, I do not cover Women’s Sports. Published each Monday afternoon.

[claraameliapond]

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[resplendentmackerelsky]

ABC's LNP guy says "none of Labor's guys are from business" like bruh. It's a government, it's not supposed to run like a business???

[aimeedaisies]

The Princess Royal’s Official Engagements in October 2023

02/10 As President of the Riding for the Disabled Association visited Avon Riding Centre, to mark its 40th Anniversary. 🐴🥳

03/10 Held two Investiture ceremonies at Windsor Castle. 🎖️

With Sir Tim As Patron of the Minchinhampton Centre for the Elderly, visited Horsfall House, Minchinhampton. 👵🏻👴🏻

04/10 In Cornwall Princess Anne visited;

Origin Coffee in Porthleven. ☕️

Camborne School of Mines at the Penryn Campus of University of Exeter, in Penryn. 🔨

St Ewe Free Range Eggs Packing Centre in Truro. 🥚

05/10 As Colonel of The Blues and Royals (Royal Horse Guards and 1st Dragoons), attended a Household Cavalry Medal Parade at Powle Lines, Picton Barracks in Wiltshire. 🫡

07/10 With Sir Tim Attended the Scotland vs Ireland Rugby World Cup match at the Stade de France in Paris. 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿🇮🇪🇫🇷🏉

09/10 As Patron of Livability, visited Livability Millie College in Poole. 🏫

As Patron of UK Youth, visited Avon Tyrrell Outdoor Activity Centre in Bransgore. 🧗‍♀️

10/10 Attended a Future of UK Food Systems Seminar held by Crops for the Future at the National Institute of Agricultural Botany in Cambridge. 🚜

As Commandant-in-Chief (Youth) of St. John Ambulance, opened the new Ambulance Hub in Castle Donington. 🚑

11/10 Held two investiture ceremonies at Windsor Castle. 🎖️

Unofficial, Sir Tim attended the opening of the New Zealand Liberation Museum, Te Arawhata, in Le Quesnoy, France. 🇫🇷🇳🇿

As Patron of Scots in London Group attended a Reception at St Columba’s Church of Scotland. 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿

Attended a Blue Seal Club Dinner at the Cavalry and Guards Club in Piccadilly, London. 🤵‍♂️

12/10 As Patron of the Campaign for Gordonstoun, chaired a Cabinet Meeting at the Lansdowne Club, London. 🏫

As Patron of English Rural Housing Association, attended a Parish Council Rural Housing Conference at Eversholt Hall, Bedfordshire. 🏡

Visited the Aircraft Research Association in Bedford. ✈️

As Grand Master of the Royal Victorian Order, attended Evensong and a Reception at The King’s Chapel of the Savoy, London. 🎶

14/10 Sir Tim represented Princess Anne, Patron of the Wiltshire Horn Society, at a dinner on the occasion of their centenary. 🐑

15/10 As Member of the International Olympic Committee, and Chairman of the International Olympic Committee Members Election Commission, attended the first day of the 141st International Olympic Committee Session in Mumbai, India. 🇮🇳

16/10 As Member of the International Olympic Committee, and Chairman of the International Olympic Committee Members Election Commission, attended the second day of the 141st International Olympic Committee Session in Mumbai, India. 🇮🇳

Attended an IOC Reception at Jio World Centre. 🌏

17/10 As Member of the International Olympic Committee, and Chairman of the International Olympic Committee Members Election Commission, attended the third day of the 141st International Olympic Committee Session in Mumbai, India. 🇮🇳

Visited the Commonwealth War Graves Commission Bombay 1914-1918 Memorial at the Indian Sailors’ Home, in Mumbai. 🪖

Attended a reception at the residence of His Majesty’s Trade Commissioner for South Asia and Deputy High Commissioner for Western India in Mumbai. 🌏

Unofficial Sir Tim attended a memorial service for Lord Lawson (former Chancellor of the Exchequer) at St. Margaret’s church in Westminster ⛪️

19/10 Hosted a Reception with the King, Queen and the Duchess of Edinburgh at Buckingham Palace to thank those who contributed to and were involved with the State Funeral of The late Queen Elizabeth II and with the Coronation of Their Majesties. 🥂

With Sir Tim, As Colonel-in-Chief of the Royal Army Veterinary Corps attended the launch of the Corps History Book at the National Army Museum in London. 📚

With Sir Tim, As Patron of the Royal Navy and Royal Marines Charity, attended the Trafalgar Night Dinner at the Old Royal Naval College in Greenwich, London. 🤵‍♀️🤵‍♂️

20/10 Opened Cutbush and Corrall Charity almshouse accommodation in Maidstone.

Opened the Royal British Legion Industries Centenary Village, Greenwich House, in Aylesford, Kent.

As Patron of the Butler Trust, visited HM Prison Elmley.

24/10 Held an Investiture at Windsor Castle. 🎖️

As President of the English-Speaking Union of the Commonwealth, delivered the Evelyn Wrench Lecture at Dartmouth House in London. 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿

25/10 In Scotland Princess Anne visited;

The International Society for Optics and Photonics Photonex Exhibition at Scottish Event Campus in Glasgow. 🔍

As President of Victim Support Scotland, visited the National Office-West in Glasgow. 🫂

Peter Equi and Sons Limited Ice Cream Manufacturer. 🍦

26/10 Opened the National Honey Show at Sandown Park Racecourse in Esher, Surrey. 🍯 🐝

As Royal Patron of the Security Institute, this afternoon attended the Annual Conference at the Royal Society of Medicine in London. ⛓️

With Sir Tim As President of the Royal Yachting Association, attended a 50th Anniversary of the Yachtmaster Scheme Dinner at Trinity House, London. 🛥️🍽️

27/10 Held an Investiture at Buckingham Palace. 🎖️

31/10 In Scotland;

As Patron of the Moredun Foundation, attended a Conference at Moredun Research Institute, Pentlands Science Park, in Penicuik. 🧬

As Royal Patron of the Leuchie Forever Fund, attended a Reception to launch Leuchie House’s new strategy in Edinburgh. 🏡

As Chancellor of the University of Edinburgh, held a Chancellor’s Dinner at the Palace of Holyroodhouse. 👩‍🎓

Total official engagements for Anne in October: 47

2023 total so far: 400

Total official engagements accompanied by Tim in October: 6

2023 total so far: 81

[briarrolfe]

🏳️‍⚧️ Love, protect, and fight for your child self! 🏳️‍⚧️

Trans kids are becoming a political football in the lead up to the Victorian state election, so I tweaked this illustration from 2021 for Trans Awareness Week.

(This is one of my 'if you want to use it, just let me know' illustrations. I don't like hoarding the stuff I make about being trans!)

[singlecrow]

Hello and happy saturday!! was wondering if there are any authors or particular books that have particularly influenced your writing??

What a lovely question! Hi! So there's this book called Voices, by Ursula Le Guin who is usually my favourite author, one of her later works and nominally YA. It's fantasy about a formerly thriving little nation state that's been invaded and systematically oppressed, and the main characters belong to the household of the man who was the elected leader of the nation in the old days. He was tortured; the family live hand to mouth. And then comes a time where, for the first time since the old days, they have real guests. And they don't have much to feed them, and their hospitality is so far from what it used to be, but everyone turns out and they clean the house from top to bottom. One of the kids asks why it matters, and gets schooled in short order about where their remaining dignity lies.

And, well, I can't see the book from where I'm sitting and I forget the line, but it's something like: this is what we mean about housework. If it isn't done honourably, then where is honour?

And I don't know if that book itself influenced me or Le Guin just codifies what I like to write about anyway, but that's my main theme and she's the author who gives it the most shape that I can think of. This idea that you really can peel potatoes to the glory of God, as the Jesuits say; that such work in the service of dignity and honour is as worthy as any great thing; and, in a way, that there are no great things, and that institutions, states, the non-corporeal structure of the world, is all cleaning the house before company comes. And I shouldn't think that, not really; I'm a constitutional lawyer and small strokes of the pen do influence seventy million people all at once if you do them right. But Le Guin, again, rebuts that by telling you that individuals matter ("The Ones Who Walk From Omelas" is the short story about that) regardless, because where else is the polity except in who and what it serves? I go back to Le Guin a lot on this; I'm trying to write something at the moment that is supposed to be a war story set in space, but turns out to be, as usual, some small things in a few people's lives that happen as a war rages around them, and why they keep on mattering as everything falls apart.

One of my other favourite authors is Natasha Pulley, and my favourite of her books (I love them all) is The Lost Future of Pepperharrow, which is a gaslamp fantasy set mostly in Japan, and it has lots of adventures and beautiful scenery and other fun stuff. But it's written in this devastatingly restrained style, which continuously reassures me that it's ok to write that way though obviously I don't do it as well as she does, and also, it comforts me that it's ok to write about grief. That melancholy and grief can basically be what you write about (if small things matter, small things destroy) even if a lot of people prefer romance and why shouldn't they in these terrible times. Thaniel, the main character, is a young gay civil servant, who knows in his heart if not his head that he's dying of tuberculosis. It's a queering of the consumptive Victorian girl trope, except Thaniel and Mori, his partner, are more immediately concerned about the imminent Offences Against the People Act that will criminalise male homosexuality. Exactly a hundred years later young gay men will die of AIDS-linked TB. It's a stunning book, never as popular as I think it should be, and I really aspire to writing one like it.

I hope that answered your question? idk! at least i hope it answered something.

[the-paintrist]

Philip de László - Portrait of Portrait of Sir Alfred East - 1907

Philip Alexius László de Lombos MVO RBA (born Fülöp Laub; Hungarian: Fülöp Elek László; 30 April 1869 – 22 November 1937), known professionally as Philip de László, was an Anglo-Hungarian painter known particularly for his portraits of royal and aristocratic personages. In 1900, he married the Anglo-Irish socialite Lucy Guinness, and he became a British subject in 1914. László's patrons awarded him numerous honours and medals. He was invested with the Royal Victorian Order by Edward VII in 1909 and, in 1912, he was ennobled by Franz Joseph I of Austria; becoming a part of the Hungarian nobility.

Sir Alfred Edward East RA RBA (15 December 1844 – 28 September 1913) was an English painter.

Alfred East was born in Kettering in Northamptonshire and studied at the Glasgow School of Art. His romantic landscapes show the influence of the Barbizon school. His The Art of Landscape Painting in Oil Colour was published in 1906. In April 1888 he had shared an exhibition at the galleries of the Fine Art Society with T.C. Gotch and W. Ayerst Ingram, and was commissioned the following year by Marcus Huish, managing director of the Society, to spend six months in Japan to paint the landscape and the people of the country. When the exhibition of 104 paintings from this tour was held at the Fine Art Society in 1890 it was a spectacular success.

East visited Spain after 1892 when he visited Algeciras at the southern end of Iberia.

In 1906 he was elected president of the Royal Society of British Artists, a position he held until his death. In that year, he published his 107-page illustrated "The Art of Landscape Painting in Oil Colour"; in its preface, he made the observation: "The greatest errors in landscape painting are to be found – contradictory as it may appear – not so much in the matter of technique as in the painter's attitude toward Nature". In this book he described his techniques using colours, half-tones and pencil sketches.

He was awarded a Knighthood in 1910 by King Edward VII. His portrait was painted by Philip de Laszlo. The Alfred East Art Gallery in Kettering, designed by John Alfred Gotch opened on 31 July 1913. The Alfred East Gallery is Northamptonshire's oldest purpose-built art gallery.

East was elected an Associate of the Royal Academy in 1899, having been a regular exhibitor since 1883 and elected to full membership in 1913.

On 28 September 1913, Alfred East died at his London residence in Belsize Park. His body was taken back to Kettering and lay in state in the Art Gallery, where it was surrounded by the pictures he had presented to the town, and attracted crowds of several thousands.

[muraenide]

Thread/Plot Wishlist

Updated as of 9/3/2024

Merfolk extinction (canon verse). A few years or a decade into the future, merfolk gradually come to the brink of extinction. The ones that remain either do not have the interest to produce offspring or refuse to. Jade gives up some of his genetic samples for the labs to produce copies or clones of himself as part of a trade. Eventually, he meets his "son" or someone else who happened to adopt him. || Status: Open

Floyd (canon verse, mid-chapter 7). Floyd develops a terminal illness that gives him a limited amount of time to live. Jade suddenly becomes incredibly interested in the spell used on Silver that preserved his youth, condition, and the state of his body for thousands of years and Briar Valley. || Status: Open

Hostage Situation (canon verse). As part of his plan to usurp King Triton, Antonio seizes the chance to have King Triton adopt Jade, then subsequently trades him with another prince from a rivaling kingdom and calls it "Friendship Exchange" but in truth, Jade's there to be a hostage. The princes and princesses in the rivaling kingdom were not fools themselves. Jade grew up being an object of discrimination and becomes twice the monster people think he is. || Status: In Discussion.

Vampire Hunter AU (modern verse). A time travel spell gone wrong caused Jade to be transmigrated into a time in the past where vampires existed in the victorian era. This leads to Jade joining the vampire hunter's guild, imposing as one, while he secretly captures vampires to conduct experiments on them and their blood in order to find a way back. || Status: Open

King of Gamblers (canon verse, post NRC graduation). In the heart of a bustling city on Earth, a mysterious casino sprung up to fame overnight. The owner was rumoured to be one of the merfolk, as well as several of his employees. They have been running the casino business for as long as half a decade and have never broken any rules, yet the amount of discourse surrounding it regarding its hidden identity as a hub for criminal activities has reached surreal levels. Jade Leech has always been cooperative with the police, offering them unconditional passes for introspection and searches, but the smile that accompanies his eyes whenever he watched them searching through his belongings suggested he knew more than he lets out. || Status: Open

The Eternal Engine AU (canon verse or independent verse, futuristic/sci-fi, actually a romance plot though it's possible to not be shippy between our muses). A thousand years from now, the world crumbles from the influences of mankind. Their actions have led to fatal climate changes and pushed nature to fight back, turning incredibly hostile. The new world is highly hostile against all former lifeforms, for all humans, merfolk, and beastmen. The Faes managed to withstand longer in the now seemingly eternal winter that blanketed the world, but there were still hostile particles in the wind that could be potentially fatal to a Fae over a long period. Almost 70% of the world's population has been wiped out. The numbers were close to 90% for non-human species. On the side, a once powerful organization decides to unite all living things who were still present and build a main facility amid the apocalyptic setting to sustain life on earth and at the same time, conduct experimentations on various living organisms to find a way to allow life to adapt to their current environment. Jade and Floyd were elected to be part of that research team. They created a large base next to the facility and placed various human beings/other species inside for specific experimentations while having complete control of its environment. The base was set up to mimic the last time in the past before Earth turned hostile, while scientists such as Jade and Floyd, who control the environments in the base would periodically release scheduled hostile changes and study how life forms react to it. One day Floyd got bored, and without Jade's knowledge, he created an NPC, Jacques Leech, based on Jade's personal data and released him into the stimulator. One of the test subjects somehow managed to fall in love with Jacques, before finding out that he's not real. The day when the experiment finally succeeds comes. The world moved towards rebuilding their homeland after the research facility was shut down and all test subjects were released. Jade runs into that test subject who falls in love with a stimulation of himself while being assigned to factions of people in charge of rebuilding the new world. Both are weirded out simultaneously and respectively by the real-life existence which Jacques is based off of, and someone who knows almost everything about himself who is otherwise a total stranger. || Status: Open